


Down The Rabbit Hole

by DeviousPaleKitten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Crossdressing, F/F, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lobotomy, M/M, Medical Procedures, Name manipulation, Paranormal, Paranormal Investigators, Pinks&Blues, Read the notes!, Slow Burn, Victorian Attitudes, made up universe, no females
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:12:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2582606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeviousPaleKitten/pseuds/DeviousPaleKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wasn’t crazy.<br/>He wasn’t crazy, that was what Stiles kept telling himself. His Mantra.<br/>It wasn’t exactly a comfort since it felt objective. But it was what Stiles has been telling himself ever since he saw his mother’s ghost a mere few weeks after they put him in the ground. </p><p>After 9 years of seeing his mother's ghost,Stiles' father has sent him to Eichen Haus. There Stiles meets some interesting people that seem to be in the same boat as him,but soon become some of the best friends he could have ever asked for.<br/>Then enters Dr.Scott McCall, the youngest to graduate in his medical field, and the most gorgeous person Stiles has ever seen.But Scott wouldn't want anything deep with a crazy person -which Stiles isn't- let alone one of his patients.<br/>But Scott is there for a whole different reason, a mission of sorts,and believes that Stiles can be one of the prime candidates to help him achieve it</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All Human AU  
> In a universe where there are no females, never had been, never will be. The males are born into two sex categories, Blues and Pinks, Pinks would be the female equivalent in the universe. Because there are no females, there are no female names, so the character names have been changed but the personalities have not.
> 
> Pinks:  
> Landon Martin (Lydia)  
> Kieran Yukimura (Kira)  
> Claude Stilinski (Claudia)  
> Stiles Stilinski  
> Isaac Lahey  
> Mel McCall-Hale (Melissa)
> 
> Blues:  
> Malan Tate (Malia)  
> Scott McCall  
> John Stilinski  
> Jackson Whittemore  
> Derek Hale  
> Talon Hale (Talia)
> 
> Suppose to be a historical fic, set in Victorian ages, but I’m still mainly making it up here. If it sounds wrong then it might be, but it still works here. I just wanted to put some of our pretty boys in old fashioned dresses because it’d make them prettier, and I did, so I’ve achieved my main goal here.

                                      _Have I gone mad? I’m afraid so, you’re entirely bonkers._

_But I’ll tell you a secret, all the best people are._

_- **Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland**_

***

He wasn't crazy.

He wasn't crazy, that was what Stiles kept telling himself.

His Mantra. It wasn’t exactly a comfort since it felt objective. But it was what Stiles has been telling himself ever since he saw his mother’s ghost a mere few weeks after they put him in the ground. Stiles was only eight and still mourning, crying in the back yard so his father wouldn’t see. He remembered it was starting to get chilly but he stubbornly didn’t grab a sweater or a cloak, not like there was anyone around to tell him otherwise now.

He was sitting in his mother’s dying flower bed; Stiles couldn’t bring himself to keep it up like he had, there were tear tracks on his face as he picked at the wilted petals. He wondered why everything had to die, and winter would just wipe out everything else, leaving the world cold and baron. It was only then that a familiar touch left him jumping with a small squeak thinking his father had caught him in a vulnerable moment when he was suppose to be strong, but he froze when he realized just who had been looking at. The figured in front of him looked remarkably similar to his mother, or his mother the last time Stiles had seen him when he was well and in good health. Claude could speak to him, laugh with him, and Stiles could feel the open wound that was left in his chest ache just a little less. He couldn’t touch his mother, but he could touch Stiles, but him if Stiles wanted. And Stiles got the promise that his mother would never leave him again, Stiles would never have to be alone again.

Stiles had to be careful when speaking to him though, if anyone else were to see him talking to thin air it would raise some questions, and his dad was already good at giving him odd looks. Stiles wanted to tell his father though, it killed him to see his dad still suffering and looking down at his wedding ring forlornly while he drank while his husband was still around. He wanted to tell his dad, sure of course he did, but it scared Stiles what his dad’s reaction could be. John was one of those self blaming types, and if he thought Stiles was a little touched in the head and seeing things then his dad would blame it on bad parenting. Trying to raise a child when your spouse has died is a hard job, so easy to mess up, and Stiles had been so young when his mom died. Stiles couldn’t bear to do that to his father, see that look on his face like he knew something like this would happen and he was just bidding his time till Stiles came to him about it.

Claude was all for it though, he believed that John would truly understand if Stiles told him, and Stiles thought it was his mother that was crazy. There was no way his father was going to take this with a grain of salt and move on like it was normal. It was bad enough his dad was trying to get rid of him lately anyways. Well…not get rid of him, but get him married at least, trying to get some Blue at the station to court him. Stile was seventeen when things started to really go south, and it was both the worst and best thing to have ever happened to him.

Seventeen and had never had a Blue come calling or had ever been courted, but that was fine with Stiles, he had his father to take care of anyways. There were no plans on leaving home any time soon or moving on from his childhood home, why would he? The Blues he went to school with thought he was weird anyways, always having small conversations with himself like he was crazy. One of the nastier, prettier Pinks spread a rumor about him selling his soul to the devil and he was constantly talking to demons or what not. A few parents of his classmates thought that he had just been driven to the edge of insanity by his mother’s death – that one was at least a little closer to the truth.

This Deputy his father had invited to dinner was new, just moved to Beacon Hills from Phoenix, Arizona and had no previous encounter with Stiles’ “oddness”. These plans were all made without Stiles’ knowledge of course, his father just walked in the night before last to say they were having a guest for dinner the next night and that Stiles could wear something nice. It infuriated Stiles to no end, but his mother was on his father’s side or all things. And of course Claude was, why wouldn’t he disagree with his husband?

This was cooking a roast and peeling potatoes for said dinner while trying to ignore his mother’s pushes and prods for Stiles to try to look at the bright side of this, and Stiles was just glad he couldn’t kill his mother himself with the peeler in his hand.

“Don’t you ever dream about getting out here, Genim?” Claude asked as he drifted on behind his Pinkchild, ignoring the obvious sour look on Stiles’ face. “There is so much more to see that the Main Street Market and the animal clinic. There is a world outside of these trees, and you can see it with this young Blue.”

“Don’t you think if I really wanted to see beyond the greens and browns I’d tell father I wanted to see it for myself?” Stiles asked through clenched teeth,”Why do I need a Blue to travel? I can take care of myself, I’m not an invalid, mother.” He grumbled as he took the potato peelings and tossed them out the window to the compost pile.

“You’re obviously not seeing the chance for romance and the conception of my grandchildren.” Claude sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter.

That caused Stiles to run right into the corner of the table, not doubting to find a find a massive bruise on his thigh later, but that was the last thing he was thinking when he whirled around to look at his mother in slight horror. “Grandchildren?” He squeaked, “You can’t be serious, I’m only seventeen!”

“Just a year younger then when I had you.”Claude informed, trying not to laugh at the look on Stiles’ face, “And I had a friend who had her Bluechild when he was fifteen, its normal. And you’ll be seen as an Old Maid before too long, why do you think you’re father is pushing this Deputy?”

Stiles scoffed and added the pot of potatoes to the stove before checking on the roast, “The last time I looked, mother, I wasn’t exactly normal.” He said pointedly as he looked over his shoulder. “What’s so bad about having children in ten years anyways, or never?”

Claude rolled his eyes at his Pinkchild’s dramatics, there was no way Stiles got that from him, it had to come from John’s side of the family somewhere. “You’ll change your tune when the right Blue comes along,” He assured, walking towards Stiles and putting a hand on his shoulder, “I know I sure did. I was just as stubborn about it as you are, Genim, and then your father came along and I wanted nothing more than to have a future with him. To have a family.”

“Yeah, and look how well that turned out.” Stiles input, trying not the let the touch affect him. “There is no future any more. You’re dead if you haven’t noticed, and father still treats it as it had just happened yesterday.”

“But I had you, didn’t I? You are my family, and you are my future, and will your own children be.” His mother answered,”And your father knows that…and maybe with the new pitter padder of small feet around he’ll be able to distract himself with grandchildren.”

Stiles made a face and pulled away from the touch, “I’m not having children for your benefit, or father’s, or that damn Blue.” He stated solidly, “I’m not getting married, and I will not spread legs for any other Blue just because I’m ‘getting up there in age’!”

He meant that to be what put the conversation to rest, but Stiles jumped when he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him and he twirled around to realize he and his mother were not alone anymore. No, because his father stood there looking well and tidy in his dark police uniform, only dark circles under his eyes gave away how tired he really was. But John wasn’t alone, he had a young Blue standing to the right of him, and Stiles couldn’t deny he was handsome. Tall, boyish face, light eyes and windswept hair, a hint of a tan that was impossible to get here in Beacon Hills with the wet and foggy weather.

That might not matter now considering if they had heard anything. Ignoring the blood rushing quickly to his face, Stiles cleared his throat and took a step forwards, “Father, hello.” He gave a small wave, “I, um, I didn’t hear anyone come in. Y-you two are home early.” It was hard not to look around him and find his mother to glare at him. Claude was the one who usual kept watch, but he had probably disappeared to leave Stiles to deal with this himself.

“Stiles, “His father greeted slowly as his eyes moved around the kitchen like he expected someone to be seated at the table and having tea while Stiles cooked. “Talking to yourself again, sweetheart?” John asked, giving Stiles a hard look to tell the Pink to go along with it.

Stiles’ mouth like a fish for a flailing second before he snapped it shut and nodded in agreement, ”Yes, I…I find it helps the cooking go much faster if I read the directions out loud.” He said with a forced giggle and smoothing his hair back where his bangs had escaped from the jeweled barrettes. Stiles knew he must have looked a fright, his hair in disarray, and his stained apron over the skirts of his dress, he really thought he would have had time to change and ready himself. He was obviously very wrong.

“Is spewing how you never want to have children or get married the secret ingredient?” The Deputy asked, and Stiles really wished he could remember the Blue’s name. Or maybe it was a good thing he didn’t after it turned out they had indeed heard that part.

“Um…” Stiles answered intelligently, wishing the floor would swallow him up right about now.

John couldn’t stop the hand that ran down his face as he looked back to his Pinkchild, “Jordan, would you mind waiting for me in the living room? I need to have a talk with Stiles.”

The Deputy nodded and turned away, leaving Stiles with the thought that the Blue really didn’t look like a Jordon. Maybe a Ryan. But all thoughts left as John took a step into the kitchen and shut the door behind him. And there was that look Stiles wanted to keep from seeing on his father’s face, that ‘where did I mess up as a parent’ look. He couldn’t find a way to get out of this one.

“I just don’t know what to do here anymore, Stiles.”John started, sounding completely defeated, “You’ve secluded yourself to the house, you never talk to anyone any more unless I make you – or you never talk to anyone but yourself. I’m out of answers. I don’t know how to help you anymore.”

“Trying to marry me off to one of your underlings sure isn’t gonna do it.”Stiles mumbled, crossing his arms and going back to check on dinner so he didn’t have to keep looking at John’s crestfallen face.

“You don’t seem to have an interest in anyone else in town, and I’m just trying to help you.” John countered, “Being alone apparently isn’t healthy for you if you sit here and talk to yourself all day.”

“I never said I wanted to start seeing any one! Why can’t you just leave me be? I like being by myself, and I have no intention of being married or tied down to some Blue that just tumbles into town. I’m not your charity case to push onto people who have thankfully never heard of me!” It felt like he had just had this conversation with his mother, but it was more heated with his father.

“Do you realize what you sound like? How—“

“How what?” Stiles asked, rounding back to glare at his father, “Go ahead, say it. Say it! Say I sound crazy talk to your dead husband when I’m alone!” He screamed. Though it was only after he said it that he froze, eyes going wide when he realized just what he said.

And his father looked to be him from what Stiles saw. “I – you wh-what?” John gasped, starting at Stiles like he had just grown a second head.

Stiles bit his lip and shook his head, looking away as he pulled off his apron, “I don’t feel so well anymore.”He mumbled, shutting off the fire under the pots on the stove, “Please give the Deputy my apologies, but I think I’ll turn in for the night. Good evening, father.”

If only that worked, because as soon as Stiles took a step away he was grabbed by the arm and forcefully turned around by his father. He struggled at first, but John just held him tighter and placed a hand on Stiles’ forehead like he was checking for a fever. Then he tilted Stiles’ head up, trying to catch the light as he stared into Stiles’ eyes.

When it looked like he couldn’t find what he was looking for, John took a step back and shook his head. “Go up stairs and pack a bag, Stiles. I can’t help you anymore, but I know a place that can.” John sighed, turning around to head back out to deal with the Deputy.

A sudden sick weight landed in Stiles’ stomach at that and he gawked, “Y-you’re just going to take me to some nut house because you think I’m crazy?” He asked, hurt and insulted.

John paused at the door before looking back to his Pinkchild with a broken look, ”I’m going to take you somewhere to help you because I love you.”He answered before pushing through the door.

Leaving Stiles alone with a half cooked dinner, and the last bit of faith in the world dissolving in his fear.


	2. Chapter 2

_“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"_ __  
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to."  
"I don't much care where –"  
"Then it doesn't matter which way you go.”   


―  ** _Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland_**

****

***

The weather pretty much accented Stiles’ mood the next morning; a cold rain, dark skies, and not a snowball’s chance in hell for a single ray of sunshine. Stiles had hoped it would be bad enough that his father would have just given up on this whole idea and they could just continue on with their lives. Too bad his hopes were extinguished as soon as he heard a knock on his door around eight in the morning. Stiles had put the chair to his vanity table up against his door before he went to bed since he didn’t have a lock thinking it might keep his father out if he didn’t answer the door. He was proved wrong when all it took was a nice heavy shove to make it fall backwards and the door was successfully opened. Stiles hoped his father had a nice bruise on his shoulder for it.

Stiles refused to eat when a bowl of porridge was shoved in his hands; he made a face at it as the mush made a sick glooping noise when he tilted the bowl to look down at it. His father was going to starve if he was really doing this to Stiles, John couldn’t cook. Claude and Stiles did the cooking around the house; John could make this mushy gruel and crack eggs.

“You can’t be serious.” Stiles drawled, tossing the bowl on the table and giving his father a look, “Is this what you’re going to live off of when you send me away?”

John looked up from his own bowl, already on his second helping and it was all just making Stiles nauseous just watching. “I’ve been relying on you for far too long go take care of me, Stiles. I’m the parent; I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

The _and look how well that turned out_ part of that statement hung heavy in the air, and Stiles tried not to choke on it.

“Just grounds for that diet I’ve been trying to get you to stick to for the past year.” Stiles mumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

John rolled his eyes and basically sucked down the rest of his breakfast in one spoonful,”It’s either eat here or at Eichen, Stiles.” He warned as he stood take his dishes back to the kitchen.

A part of Stiles really hoped this was just a scare tactic to get him to agree to start allowing himself to start seeing Blues and get his life moving. It hurt less than believing his father was really taking him to a crazy house.

Though it starting to set in that this was real when he was ushered into a waiting carriage outside not ten minutes later, his breakfast cold and congealing into a semi-solid mass on the table where he left it. Stiles refused to talk to his father the entire hour while he sat right next to him, and the Sheriff did try to start a few conversations. Stiles just had nothing to say to the man who raised him and was now giving him up because he was too much trouble to deal with. He wondered if people started asking his father where he was, and they were told he was in an insane asylum, if they would comment that it was about time. That he was finally where he belonged.

It was easy to spot the institution a mile away, even in the cold storm of rain. Lines and lines of trees, all dark green and almost a black-brown so heavily soaked with water, and then a dirty gray blotch in the middle of it that had to be the stone of the building standing out like a sore thumb against nature. Stiles just pulled his coat closer to him, getting a chill that he wasn’t entirely sure could be chalked up the weather; it wasn’t exactly a welcoming looking building.

His father pulled over in front, and Stiles glanced up at the words Eichen Haus over the iron gates and above the doors, a rusted bronze that had started going green and looked almost moldy. Maybe the forest behind it was trying to revolt and take back the land the institution sat on slowly. Stiles silently rooted for Mother Nature to win the fight. Two Blue Orderlies in outfits that matched the exterior of the building rushed out like they were expecting them and Stiles wondered just how long his father had planned this. Had John really just rung Eichen last night and told them they were coming?

 A solid looking orderlie pulled open Stiles’ door, all broad shouldered and heavy brow, it’s like he had skipped a step in the evolution process. He more or less pulled Stiles out of the carriage by his arm while the other, a short more modern looking human, helped his father with his bags. Stiles gasped as the cold rain hit him and sent a shiver from his head down his spine to the tip of his tail bone. It felt like a bad omen.

They were lead to the front desk when they got inside, Stiles was starting to shake slightly his now damp dress sticking to him a little uncomfortably, and there was a draft inside that wasn’t helping. His father walked forwards and signed him in as the smaller orderlie walked away with his belongings, to a sanctioned room Stiles supposed. But it didn’t quell the want to run up and rip his things away as he watched the Blue walk away. Not like he could have moved if he wanted since the caveman orderlie still had a hold of him like he expected Stiles to run away. And Stiles wouldn’t deny that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind a time or two.

He hated this place already, he wasn’t even twenty paces in the building and he loathed it entirely, wanted nothing more than to burn it down and go home. Stiles was not crazy. He was not some broken china doll with a chip in his head that needed to be glued together and deemed ‘fixed’. He was not a poor suffering soul who needed be put away, and it hurt more than he could ever imagine that his father thought he was.

The Pink receptionist who was helping his father sign him in looked over towards Stiles with a sad pitying smile. He was probably calling Stiles a ‘poor dear’ in his head before nodding to John when he finished the paperwork. Stiles clenched his jaw to keep from saying anything rude for being judged right off the bat. The Pink hadn’t even seen Stiles do something to get labeled as crazy and already there were thoughts flying around. This was why Stiles stayed home and avoided people; he wished his father could understand that.

John then walked back to him with a tired sigh, like it was taking a lot out of him to do this, and Stiles must imagine it was. But it was his father’s idea to do this in the first place!

“You could fix all this and just take me back home.”Stiles said when his father was standing front of him, looking like he was trying to find the best way to say good bye. “I don’t need this, you know I don’t. How are you even paying for this? Do you get a special discount for being a state employee?”

“You let me worry about that.”John answered softly, placing a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, “You just worry about getting better, let them help you, Stiles.”

“Help me with what? I’ve been telling you I’m not sick. There is nothing wrong with me.” And the fact that Stiles hadn’t even seen his mother all day was just proving it. Though Stiles suspected his mother was hiding, feeling guilty for getting Stiles in this mess.

Though that admission seemed to just make John’s face crumble more before he pulled Stiles into a strong hug, one that almost took Stiles’ breath away because it had been a while since his father hugged him.

 Affection was usually been reserved for Stiles’ night terrors, and John would hold him as Stiles cried himself to sleep. The next morning neither of them spoke of it and pretended it never happened. Stiles got more touch from his dead mother than his living father. He wanted to fight it, he was so furious his father was locking him up here, but it reminded Stiles that he didn’t know what he’d see his father again after this, how frequent visits would be, and this was his only living relative. So he slowly hugged his father back, arms coming up before they soon got just as tight and Stiles’ eyes watered.

“Please don’t leave me here, father.”Stiles whispered, his resolve steadily breaking.

“I have to, Stiles.” John said just as soft as he stroked his Pinkchild’s hair,”It’s for your own good. And I just want what’s best for you, I always have.”

Stile felt like he was a child again he was begging his father not to let the monsters under the bed get him. Clinging to his strong, police officer father was safe, and nothing else could get him. Stiles wished that thought still worked, he wished to give anything he possessed for that work right now in this moment. But nothing was worth that wish apparently since someone so rudely interrupted their moment by clearing their throat and reminded them where they were.

Stiles saved his father the awkwardness and pulled away first, clearing his throat and wiping his eyes before smoothing down his skirts to try to act his age again. John too cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck like he was a loss, and Stile wondered just how guilty he was feeling right now, how much of a failure he has made his father feel like. He didn’t know how to say it was him who should feel guilty; his father had done the best with what was thrown at him after his husband died.

Luckily, Stiles was saved from saying anything at all when John spoke up, “I’ll come see you next week when I get a day off.” He promised.

Stiles could just swallow a little hard and nodded, hoping the feeling of his lips twitching was small smile and not a grimace.

His father actually kissed his forehead before he walked backwards towards the doors, giving a small wave that Stiles returned mechanically just because he had no idea how else to respond. The door echoed throughout the room as it shut behind his father, and Stiles now understood why they called the place Eichen. The cry of his hopes of going back home dying echoed along with the door slamming shut was the loudest thing he had ever heard.


	3. Chapter 3

_“My dear, here we must run as fast as we can, just to stay in place._

_And if you wish to go anywhere you must run twice as fast as that.”_

  ** _-Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland_**

****

***

 

If Stiles thought the orderlies’ uniforms were a lovely slew of gray then he was in for a treat when it came to what the patients had to wear. It was not comfortable walking down the chilly cement hallways of Eichen’s Pink wing in an elephant gray garb that was trying to disguise itself as a gown; it didn’t even come down to his ankles. He had to pull up his standard issue stockings to cover them, mainly because it didn’t feel appropriate and because his pale flesh got cold so easily. Fortunately for Stiles he was handed two more gowns exactly like it, fresh white under garments, and more stockings that he was beginning to think were woven with burlap. Was he in a mental hospital or prison?

The caveman and shortstack orderlies lead him down a long row of doors that felt like it went on forever, Stiles was sure he’s had nightmares like this. The squeaks of his shoes – some kind of mix between house slippers and rain galoshes – were the only real sounds that bounced around the hallway, just more echoes that gave him goose bumps listening. They finally stopped in front of a room that Stiles was barely about to make out the numbers 205 on the door before it was yanked open by Caveman and Stiles was pushed in so hard he had to drop his new clothes so he could catch himself on the iron foot railing of a vacant bed in front of him that he supposed was now designated for him.

“Hey, Martin!” Shortstack called into the room right behind Stiles, “Finally found you a little play mate to entertain your dead friends!”

Stiles blew his bangs out of his face before he was able to finally look around and take in his bearings, the heavy door slamming shut behind him. It wasn’t a big room, not like he expected it to be, it was nice square with room for two beds and two wardrobes on either side of the room he supposed was where he was to stow his meager belongings allowed to him during his stay.

It was only when he looked to the other bed that Stiles saw his first pop of color in this dull and washed out establishment, coming in the form of bright red from the other Pink who was suppose to be his roommate. Even though this Martin person had their nose buried in a book laying on his stomach with his bare feet in the air, eyes down cast, Stiles could tell he was beautiful. The other Pink was in the same attire as Stiles was but they pulled it off so much better than Stiles could have ever hoped to, the gray on Stiles seemed to just wash him out with his pale skin, but his roommate was just as pale but made it work somehow. The Pink hadn’t even made a move to acknowledge Stiles and already Stiles was envious of him, it should be illegal to have someone who could get rich with just their face to be in a place like this. It made Stiles wonder just what Martin was in for, but he didn’t want to be rude and interrupt his roommate’s reading, even if ignoring him was rude to begin with.

Stiles just sighed and picked up his dropped garments before he moved forwards to his bed, only to happily discover that one of his bags was waiting for him by the head of the bed. Stiles dropped his clothe and immediately picked up his pillow that he had brought with him, hugging it tight and breathing it in, smelling home, his soap, and the perfume his mother use to wear that his father doesn’t know he had bought a bottle of. Stiles sat back against the head railings of the bed, eyes going to the widow that was between the beds, only to find them heavily barred. So nice to know that if there was ever a fire or an emergency and he couldn’t get out the door that he’d end up just perishing in this room because he couldn’t get out the window. Never mind the fact that they were on the second floor, he could still jump, what’s a broken bone or five compared to his life?

“I’ve seen a lot of security blankets in a place like this, but I’ve never seen anyone hold on to a pillow of all things.”

Stiles’ eyes snapped back to the other Pink across from him before he looked around like he expected someone else to be in the room with them, then finally settling on it really being his roommate. Unless he imagined it, because that’s what he really needed to add, hearing voices now.  “I’m sorry, are you speaking to me?” Stiles asked, still trying to be polite

“You see anyone else in here, Sweetie?” The other Pink answered before turning a page in his book and turning bright green eyes up at Stiles for a split second and then dropping them again.

Stiles thought that could be debatable at any time since his mother was usually drifting around somewhere, but she wasn’t around right now. “Not at the moment, no.” He answered truthfully.

Martin’s lips turned up in a half smile like he thought Stiles was making a joke, Stiles thought he must be a lot more amusing than he originally intended for that to happen. But his roommate looked up again before starting pointedly at the pillow like he was waiting for an explanation.

“Oh, uh,” Stiles started, finally getting it before looking down at said pillow and shrugging, “I just have a hard time sleeping with it. Security blanket, like you said.”

“Probably the craziest security blanket I’ve seen and I’ve been here six months.” Martin voiced, sounding board even discussing it any more even though he was the one that brought it up.”

And even though it was ridiculous, Stiles still worried a little as he looked down at the pillow, was it really that weird? Some kids had toys and dolls they clung to, but Stiles clung to what felt like home and comforted him the most. He wasn’t crazy, but he was obviously not normal talking to ghosts, even if it was just one.

His roommate must have noticed how he was over thinking it because it was enough for the other Pink to actually look up at Stiles for the first time and pulling himself up on his knees on the bed. “Whoa, don’t freak out on me here, it was just a joke. Just trying to get that kicked puppy look off your face.”

“And is this the part where I thank you?” Stiles asked as he hugged his pillow tighter, not caring what Martin thought about it.

“You should. Because in you come in here with that attitude straight away this place will eat you alive in no time.” Martin advised.

Maybe the other Pink knew what he was talking about, he had said hes been here for six months, and Martin looked healthy enough. The room wasn’t padded, and there were no white straight jackets in the corners, so his roommate had to be in his right mind most of the time, right? Though Stiles went on just ignoring him, he wasn’t thanking anyone in this place as long as he was held here against his will.

“My name is Landon by the way,” The Pink continued as if he were having a real conversation with Stiles, “The inbreed monkeys around here said your name was Genim, Genim Stilinski. Are you related to the Sheriff of Beacon Hills by chance?”

That got Stiles to look back towards his roommate – Landon – and he debated on lying, but Stilinski wasn’t exactly a common name to get away with around these parts. So he nodded, “Hes my dad.” He wondered if Landon was really from Beacon Hills or somewhere surrounding, he didn’t remember this Pink in his classes at school. “And I go by Stiles, by the way. Not Genim.”

Landon wrinkled his nose at him before tilting his head, “What the hell is a Stiles?” He asked, and Stiles couldn’t tell if Landon was serious.

Before Stiles could really ask there was a shrill bell that rang somewhere in the hallway, and the sound just grew louder as it bounced around and echoed off the walls. The heavy doors to not just their room but all the rooms in the hall seemed to fly open with unison ear shattering thuds as they hit the wall behind them, all seeming to be on electronic switches. Stiles probably jumped about a mile high, but Landon hadn’t moved at all, again going back to looking board, even yawning and stretching for the effect.

“Whats that?” Stiles asked anxiously as he hopped to his feet, looking between Landon and the door, “Is it a fire alarm? A drill? Are we under attack?” He rushed out.

Landon rolled his eyes and placed his book with an interesting gingerness on his nightstand, and Stiles caught the title _Alice In Wonderland_ scrawled on top of it, “It’s the lunch bell.” He explained before reaching below his bed and pulling on the same type of slippers Stiles was wearing.

At the sound of lunch and food Stiles’ stomach gave a loud gurgle and he remembered he hadn’t eaten his father’s gruel this morning. It seemed to have been loud enough that the other Pink had heard it because Landon’s eyes dropped to Stiles’ stomach and Stiles had to fight the urge to cross his arms over his body.

“Come on, _Stiles_.”Landon sighed, gesturing for Stiles to follow with his arm as he headed towards the door, “I’ll introduce you to the others. It’ll be a nice change to have fresh blood for lunch.” He winked before sauntering off down the now crowed hallway.

That wasn’t very comforting, and Stiles was sure Landon knew that and did it for that exact reason. Stiles was iffy on this roommate, Landon didn’t seem certifiable, he seemed lucid enough. But then again, he too was locked up here, and Stiles was now wondering if he should learn to sleep with one eye open. No matter his worried thoughts, he still followed. It’s not like he had anything else to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr ^.^
> 
> devious-pale-kitten


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